


Stan's Calendar Year

by mythomagicallydelicious



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, Briefly mentions a bunch of other Gravity Falls characters, Gen, It's all about Stan, Stanford Pines - Freeform, but also kind of about
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 18:14:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11651991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythomagicallydelicious/pseuds/mythomagicallydelicious
Summary: On January 1st, 1995, Stan stopped working on the portal. This is his year.





	Stan's Calendar Year

On January 1st, 1995, Stan stopped working on the portal. He stopped.

During the day he gave his tours, smiling and charming tourists into buying merchandise. At night he fixed himself dinner, watched TV, and went to bed before 11 pm. He took Wednesdays and Thursdays off every week so he could head to bars out of town and meet some new people. Spread word of mouth about the Shack further, sure, but mainly to just have some good times like he used to.

When February came, Stan focused on making the place a nice attraction for Valentine’s couples as well. He went out into town more often. He made a date with the woman who worked the counter of Mattress Kings. They had a nice night, going to dinner and watching the sunset. They had a few more dates over the course of the month, but eventually they decided to stop calling each other up.

In March Stan prepared for the many waves of spring breakers, family road trippers and nearby bored college students. (He offered a special discount for college students—if they could beat Mr. Mystery in an arm-wrestling match, they’re in free. If they lose, it’s double the price. Stan never lost, and he got to beat up a bunch of yuppy college punks for money). March was windy, though, and blew his signs off their posts all over Oregon.

Stan spent the better part of April dripping wet, trying to fix those signs. He didn’t run many tours in April, exhausted from fixing the signs. He did, however, clear out a space in the back room he sometimes used for party events and began work on a playing card tower. After two straight weeks of careful maneuvering, being very careful of placement and how he stepped on the floor, as well as buying fifty additional decks of cards, Stan created his masterpiece of a card house. It was six feet tall—as high as he could reach without getting a ladder—and spread across the space. It was a vast castle, with turrets and spires and even the card equivalent of a moat. He spent all of his spare time in that room, carefully constructing the card tower. When it was finished he smiled, took a picture, and then left. The next morning he knocked it down himself. He laughed and spent the next few nights sorting the cards back out to their own decks.

In May Stan mourned with the rest of the town about the double heart-attack deaths of Ma and Pa Duskerton. They closed up and chained off the shop. Stan felt a flicker of loss at their passing, remembering their faces of some of the first kind eyes he’d seen when he first got to town.

In June, Stan woke up early every day and hosted extra tours. It was the beginning of the truly busy season—summer. He worked every single day of the month except for the 15th. That day he shut down the Shack, grabbed two cakes from town and went home. He ate the whole of them in one night, washed down with an entire bottle of whiskey. Stan got up late the next day and hosted the regular tours.

In July Stan set off $100 worth of fireworks on Independence Day, keeping the local police on their toes to catch the troublemaker. He almost set half the forest on fire, but managed to put out the last batch of sparklers in time. He never got caught.

In August he congratulated his closest neighbor, Manly Dan, on his engagement. Dan and the soon-to-be Mrs. Corduroy were a match made in heaven, to Stan’s way of thinking. He told them both he’d always be up at the Shack if they needed him. Dan crushed him in a manly hug of thanks. His fiancée also hugged him, saying he could drop in for dinner once everything was settled. (He did).

In September Stan took a vacation. A two week cruise down the Western seacoast and back again, trailing down to Mexico before turning back. Stan lived it up in an executive suite and struck it “lucky” at Bingo. He gorged himself at the buffet and had a good time. At night he stared at the stars out on deck and imagined he was on another shore, on another boat for a moment.

In October the Shack was booming again, especially as Halloween approached. Stan scared the pants off of trick or treaters. Literally in the case of one boy. Stan recognized him as the kid whose father ran the used car shop. Pal or Guy or—Bud? Something. The Shack made a killing that month.

In November Stan went to the store and bought everything for the perfect Thanksgiving dinner. He spent two days making sure it’d be done right. He called Shermie and they talked for a while, looking back at old times, talking about what his kids are up to now (Wow, Samuel’s about to get married? Good for him) and how’s the new job treating you? Stan got off the phone more than an hour later and ate dinner alone. He was stuffed but felt so empty.

In December Stan closed the Shack for the last two weeks of the month. He did some essential home repairs, caught up on the latest season of some show he’d started watching. On the 31st he cried all day over a small red book he’d pulled from his bookshelf.

As the crowd counted down from New York, waiting for the ball to drop, Stan broke down in his living room.

“I tried, Stanford. But I can’t. I can’t live with this. Not with what I did to you. I need you back, I gotta get you back! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry—“ Stan repeated that over and over, sobbing, apologizing and gripping the book closer to his chest.

On January 1st, 1996, Stan woke up early and gave his tours. That night he took the elevator for the first time in a year and, with new resolve, worked to bring his brother home.

**Author's Note:**

> There's like...three versions of this story sitting in my drafts. Not sure why this one won out, but I just wanted to post it somewhere. Might go back and change the summer months around later, who knows?! Hope you enjoy! I'd love any feedback :D


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